Seven Characters - Seven Sins
by tonjavmoore
Summary: Repost from Live Journal. We were given seven characters to work with and each week a sin to assign one of them. Of course I don't own them. If I did, things would be different. Just saying. Characters: Ianto, Toshiko, Gwen, Jack, Rhys, Owen, Andy Sins: (in order) Pride, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, Greed, Envy
1. Useless Pride

**Useless Pride**

Ianto Jones knew he should have had more pride.

He took pride in doing what he did well. Coffee, for example. He made superior coffee – he knew it, the team knew it, and everyone who had tasted it acknowledged it. He was an exceptional archivist – he had a knack for cataloguing and mapping various dissimilar devices together. He was an excellent shot, a quick thinker, and possessed sharp senses, all of which made him an outstanding field agent. He was very proud of all that. He had worked hard and deserved the satisfaction of being so.

When Jack reappeared after running off with the Doctor three months before, Ianto used all of that pride as a shield.

All the emotions he felt as he turned and saw Jack in the doorway were immediately shoved into the back of his mind. He had done well without Jack. He was fully accepted as a member of the team. He had no intention of falling back into his old behavior, so he raised his shield of pride and kept his distance.

Ianto had made that shield stronger and larger when one of Jack's back-catalogue had shown up and threatened them all. It had only dipped once, when Jack had asked him out for dinner and a movie. Ianto didn't know why he had accepted. Pride should have prevented it. However, it didn't really count as he was sure Jack would never follow up on it.

Now he was sitting on a luxurious bed in an expensive hotel room with his pride keeping him company. It was cold, but it was his. That made him prouder. Why shouldn't it?

The knock startled him out of thoughts. He looked out the peephole in the door. It was Jack.

His pride categorically ordered him away from the door. It was adamant that he should not answer. And yet, Ianto's hand was turning the knob and opening the door, even as he tried to obey his pride.

Jack stood in the corridor. He wasn't smiling. His blue eyes seemed sad and desperate, not something that Ianto had seen before. Jack opened his mouth and spoke in a rush. "Ianto, I know you're angry and hurt and you have every right to be, but could I come in for a minute? I just need to see you. Then, I'll go away, I promise."

Absolutely not, Ianto's pride said. Tell him to get back to his own room. Tell him you don't want to see him. Don't let him in. The words trembled on Ianto's lips, but they didn't make it out. Jack resembled a puppy that was expecting a kick, but hoping against hope that it might be a pat instead.

Ianto compromised with his pride. He wrapped it around himself like armor, and then gave Jack tacit permission to enter by opening the door wider. Jack entered, closing the door behind him. He didn't move away from the door, just stood there and looked at Ianto. Not just into his eyes, but every piece of him was examined by those desperate eyes. Jack's hands, balled into fists at his sides twitched as though he wanted to use them, but he kept them still.

He didn't know what to make of this. His pride made his voice cold and precise. "What are you doing, Jack?"

Jack took a deep breath and said, "You're all right. You're really all right."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ianto was impatient. The team had checked in thirty minutes before together. What did Jack think would have happened to him?

"I… I'm sorry," Jack said, his voice barely a whisper. "Before today – the last time I saw you – you were dead."

Stunned, Ianto repeated, "Dead?"

"While I was gone, there was a Time paradox caused by a madman. He held me prisoner and killed all of you. In front of me. You… you were the last. He cut your throat. He let your blood fall onto my hair and my face and then he threw your body into my lap and left it there." Jack closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you, but I needed to see you. I had to be sure you were really alive. I'll go now. Thanks for letting me in."

Before Jack could move, Ianto pulled him into his arms and held him close. Jack pressed his head into Ianto's shoulder as he clung. "I'm so happy you're alive, Ianto."

Ianto Jones knew he should have more pride, but at this moment he was really glad he didn't.


	2. Just Another Word For

**Just Another Word For...**

It had started innocently enough.

_"We've got a lot of Hub CCTV stored that we really don't need, Jack," Tosh said at the end of their staff meeting. Suzie and Owen had already left whether together or separately, Tosh didn't know. She tried to tell herself she didn't care, either._

"Get rid of it then," Jack agreed. "But check it over to be sure that we don't lose something important..."

Tosh had begun her checks that night. A simple image-processing program to remove the scenes where nothing moved and marking passages where something did. She'd investigated those and it wasn't long before she stumbled on her first on the Autopsy Bay camera.

_"Is Harkness gone yet?" Owen was shouting to someone at the top of the stairs._

"Left about ten minutes ago," Suzie called back. She was off-camera. Tosh imagined her standing at the railing gazing down.

Owen's expression altered into something Tosh didn't understand. He leaned casually against the gurney beside him and said in a low growl. "Don't you have an appointment then?"

"Yes, I do." Suzie's voice had changed as well. She walked slowly into camera range wearing one of Owen's lab coats. "Sorry to keep you waiting, doctor," she whispered. The coat fell from her shoulders and she was wearing only a wisp of something in black silk…

She'd kept that one, watching it to the end multiple times. She found that she could imagine herself in Suzie's place, Owen's skilled hands caressing her as she moaned into his mouth. That wasn't the only one she found. She kept her favorites on DVDs to replay whenever she found herself craving fulfillment of a kind that she couldn't get from her computer.

If she had to put a name to it, she would call it: lust.

Her next idea had come from running across those disconnected cables while tracking some damage caused by the latest piece of alien tech fetched back by the team. It had sent electrical impulses that screwed up about a third of the CCTV system. She'd taken a camera down from its mount and seen them.

_Tosh frowned at the dusty hookups. Where had they come from? She attached them to her scanner so that she could check if the cameras (wherever they were) would still function. After a moment or two of flickering, the first image slid into view. She found herself staring into the communal shower room, watching Ianto scrub away the latest bit of rotting corpse he had dragged into Owen's autopsy room. Underneath those very formal business suits was an incredibly attractive body; Tosh wondered briefly if Jack has already seen it – if he hadn't it wouldn't have been for lack of trying. Ianto turned in the stall to rinse his back and Tosh kept staring…_

She had sighed with each movement, watching Ianto soap himself and then rinse clean. He was careful and meticulous with his bathing as he was in everything. Tosh watched it all. Other cameras showed other stalls. Over time she'd watched Jack with his powerful muscles flexing, Owen with his slender frame and irreverent splashing, Suzie's long beautiful legs, and Gwen's pale skin. All of them fed her lust.

This spurred her to go on a treasure hunt. She'd rooted out many camera hookups that had fallen into disuse. Her prize had been the one in Jack's bunker, nearly invisible in the wall. The camera had been old and unreliable, so Tosh had used a time when Jack was gone from the hub to replace it with one containing both a regular and infrared receiver. On those rare occasions when the Captain slept, he did so in the nude. She imagined her hands caressing that smooth flesh, soothing the jerky movements as his nightmares haunted him, and it felt good.

A new world opened up after the Cyberwoman incident.

_"Tosh, I need you to put some cameras in Ianto's flat," Jack said quietly. "I'm afraid… I think he may be thinking of… well, doing something stupid. I'd like to keep an eye on him."_

"Of course I will." Of the team, only she knew how Jack's eyes had followed Ianto around the Hub. Only she had seen the hopeless expressions of longing from Ianto. Only she knew, because she had watched. "I'll fix them to be undetectable; he'll never know."

She'd spied upon Ianto's pain and longed to ease his sufferings through strokes and cuddles. She could imagine him turning to her and burying his face into her breast. She'd been so absorbed that Jack had almost caught her when he emerged unexpectedly from his office. She'd told herself that was it and ran home to her bed. She'd controlled her urges the first night after, but the next night she hadn't been able to sleep, desperate for the images to feed her imaginings. She didn't try to stop herself again; she routed the camera feeds to her flat instead.

Later when Jack had told her to remove the cameras, she had lied and said she would. When Jack had started staying over at Ianto's, the tenderness between them excited her. She would watch them give each other massages, snuggling together to watch movies, and the sweet kisses they exchanged as they progressed into a relationship.

She'd placed cameras in Owen's flat and in Gwen's as well. She watched Owen bring home a different woman each time, using his techniques over and over until she had them memorized and could recognize them simply by the way Owen switched the lights on and off. Gwen's volatile relationship with Rhys and the fights they had were more amusing and exhilarating than their often silent intercourse.

She loved watching them all and each one could bring satisfaction. She wallowed in her lust. It was good. She had evolved a nightly ritual. Clean and powdered, she would don her red satin robe. She would pour herself a glass of fine wine and settle in front of her enhanced television screen with her altered remote and check her "special channels". She could always find one to satisfy her need. If she was lucky, she'd find it twice. On rare nights, she could go three times.

She supposed this lust would condemn her to hell, if there was one. She didn't care. Lust was just an Old English word for joy.


	3. Don't Ask Unless You Really Want to Know

**Don't Ask Unless You Really Want to Know**

It was her own fault. Gwen knew that, but she resented it all the same. It seemed like such a harmless game when she suggested it. The others weren't enthusiastic about playing (they usually weren't, but she liked to stir them up now and then), but finally gave in as she knew they would. Jack was not a believer in team-building exercises, as his one attempt had led to them being nearly eaten by the Brecon Beacons cannibals. Gwen felt that they would be closer if they did them. She argued about it until he gave in, provided they a) took place in the security of the Hub, and b) did not waste too much time.

The rules she had made up were simple. Each person would liken their teammates to animals. Only mammals from Earth were allowed, to stave off any alien creatures Jack might have encountered in his travels and to keep Owen from using all snakes or insects. They had to choose four different animals, and the person they were intended for would then pick one of the four that they felt best represented them and the person who had chosen it would say why.

It started off all right. They sat around the conference table after lunch and took the envelopes that Ianto handed them. He had been designated keeper of the envelopes as he was the only one they trusted not to peek beforehand. Jack had volunteered to go first.

He slid the printed pages out. They had agreed to use a page from Wikipedia for their picks to avoid knowing who had chosen what. Jack glanced at the four pages and put one down on the table. "This one," he said with a smug smile. It was a black leopard. "I'm guessing it was you," he said to Ianto.

"How observant, sir." They exchanged looks that Gwen swore were eye sex; she wondered that they didn't need a cigarette afterwards. Ianto continued, "It's rather self-explanatory. You're exotic dangerous, and sneak around at night. Among other things."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Jack laughed. "Just for that, you're next."

Ianto extracted his sheets and studied them. He found the one he wanted and set it down. "You know I watch this show, don't you?'

Jack's smile became smugger. "I picked a meerkat because they spend the morning tidying up, just like you do. They then forage for food, like you do. And the males are fierce fighters when they need to protect the others in their gang. Just like you do."

"I'd like to point out that if you take that analogy too far, sir, you will end up being the dominant female of our burrow."

Jack held up his hands in surrender. "Dropping it now. Who's next?"

"Tosh, you go," Gwen said. She was bursting with curiosity about her own, but since this was her game, she was determined to be last.

Tosh sighed and opened her envelope. She looked over the pages and then put one on the table. "This is cute. Who picked it?"

"Me," Jack said. "That's a capuchin, one of the most intelligent of the monkeys. That picture reminded me of you when you're chasing down a computer problem."

She smiled shyly. "I like the others, too. Thanks. You all are too nice."

"Ok, Owen, your turn," Gwen said.

Owen grumbled under his breath. He didn't bother to read the sheet, but just picked one and put it down. They all laughed. The picture was a mongoose. Owen glared at it. "Ok, who made me out to be Rikki-Tikki-Tavi?"

"Wow," Tosh said, between giggles. "You've read Kipling?"

"I went to a 'good' school where they forced the classics down our throats."

"Anyway, that was mine." Tosh said. "You're curious, you're resourceful, and you're not scared of snakes."

At last it was Gwen's turn. She pulled out her sheets. The first one showed a black Manx cat. Why a Manx she wondered. Because of the no tail thing? It was nice but she wanted something a little edgier. The second one was a ground squirrel. Cute, but not glamorous. The third was a galagos. Gwen did a double-take at the name and looked more closely. A bushbaby. The picture showed a wide-eyed animal jumping through the air. That was more like it.

The last sheet was a… She froze. How could someone…? How dare they…?

Gwen didn't let any emotion show on her face. She put the bushbaby page on the table. "Oh, that's mine," Ianto said. She didn't hear his explanation. Her blood was roaring in her ears. Memories flooded over her.

Her mother: "Gwen, this room isn't fit for pigs to live in!"

Her roommate at uni: "Honestly, Gwen. You could at least make an effort occasionally."

Rhys: "Is it so hard for you to put things away when you're done with them?"

The others were leaving the conference room. She answered them mechanically, still too stunned to move. Through the class walls, she looked over at her workstation. Gossip magazines were on the floor in an unsteady pile. Chocolate wrappers littered the desk top and she could see the brown stain from a minor coffee spill this morning. She could see muddy footprints up to her chair from the Weevil hunt this morning. She remembered that after target practice yesterday, she'd left the guns out and hadn't bothered to clean them.

She put the offending page down on the table. Maybe they had a point. Maybe that animal did represent her in a way. She looked at the picture.

It was a sloth.


	4. The Melancholy Danish

**The Melancholy Danish**

Captain Jack Harkness prowled around the conference room, poking into all the cabinets and drawers. It had to be here somewhere. Ianto had picked it up when they were walking to the Hub.

His stomach growled, a sound guaranteed to strike terror into the hearts of those who heard it. All those except Ianto Jones, who sat in his chair completely unperturbed. "They're for the staff meeting, sir," he said, with the sigh of the long suffering. "Breakfast served as we go over the morning reports. May I remind you that it was your idea?"

"No, you may not remind me," Jack retorted. "You can bring the Danish up here instead. I'm starving."

"There are digestive biscuits in your office."

"I don't want digestive biscuits," Jack snarled. "I'm your captain and I want Danish!"

"You eat all the best ones. Whenever the others get here, there are never any left." Ianto checked his watch. "You can wait five more minutes." He rose and went to the door. "I'll make coffee."

Jack huffed as he sat down in his chair. Ianto was treating him as though he were a child who couldn't control himself. He wasn't a glutton. Really, he was just hungry. Really hungry. For Danish.

As far as Jack was concerned, the human race justified its existence in the universe by producing the Danish. The flaky crust, the sugary glaze, and the many different fillings made it the perfect food, even outdoing Chinese and pizza. Jack's stomach virtually roared with impatience. Danish! Danish! Danish!

A few minutes later, the others arrived. Ianto brought in the coffee tray and produced the box with the breakfast pastries from somewhere Jack couldn't see. Damn him. Ianto passed the box around to the others before giving it to Jack. Bastard. When Jack got the box all the best Danish were gone. It was a conspiracy.

He cleared his throat. "Change of policy starting tomorrow," he announced. "The breakfast box will be brought into the conference room when Ianto arrives – not when everyone else arrives. If you want a selection, get here earlier."

"That's not fair!" Gwen protested. "You get here when Ianto does."

"I'm the boss, which means I don't have to be fair. Is that clear, Ianto?"

"Yes, sir." Ianto's face retained the polite work mask he invariably wore in the Hub. "Tomorrow I shall put the box in the conference room as soon as we arrive."

He was as good as his word. Unfortunately the others got there at the same time. Jack managed to snag more than his share of the cream cheese and cherry Danish as his reflexes were faster. He still cursed the others for their gluttonous behavior. He didn't get any apple or raspberry or apricot.

Jack gave it a week before the team went back to their old sleeping habits. He was right. When reminded, Ianto said he would put the box on the table when he got in.

The next morning, the box was on the conference table when Jack breezed through the door. He stopped short. The box was metal, closed with a giant padlock. He tried his wrist strap on it. It was inert and non-magnetic. Grumbling, Jack went to his office to get his skeleton keys, only to find that they had "mysteriously" moved. By the time he found them, the team was all there and then it started. It was a very civilized food fight, because Ianto's threat of decaffeinated coffee for every day there was a crumb on the floor or table made them very cautious, but it remained a competition nonetheless

It was all out war between Jack and Ianto after that. Every morning, there would be a new challenge. Sometimes Jack won and all the Danish disappeared. Once Ianto bought twice as many and still Jack scarfed them down, even though the quantity made him a bit bloated. Other times Ianto would win and Jack had to wait for everyone else. Although really he considered that using a Time Lock on the conference room door was taking it a bit too far, he had to concede that Ianto was very clever.

Jack's losing streak had lasted two and one-half weeks this time, and he was determined to win this morning. He opened the conference room door. "Hey!" he yelled down to the kitchenette. "Where's the box?"

"On the table, Captain."

"No, it isn't."

"I assure you that it is, sir."

Ianto sounded smug, so Jack took him at his word. The box was cloaked then. Jack approached the table carefully, looking for the shimmer that would give away an anomaly of light. He couldn't find one. He pushed his hands over the table as far as they would go and slowly circled it. Ianto must have figured out that by the time Jack found it, his rivals would have arrived. Rather than face that, Jack climbed up and laid himself flat, scissoring his arms and legs. He felt his left elbow brush something and yanked the box from its surrounding tech. Without bothering to get off the tabletop, he pulled it open and began devouring the Danish.

Each Danish tasted so good, so different. Sweet and smooth, creamy and tart, rich beyond anything – he couldn't take time to savor them as he would have liked, for the team was due any minute. His cravings today extended beyond the usual and he continued to eat all the pastries until the box was empty.

"Jack!"

He looked up to find Ianto in the doorway, looking equally surprised and annoyed. "I can't believe this! Don't you have any self-control? You really are a glutton."

Jack put the empty box down beside him. When he sat up, he showered crumbs and sugar on the tabletop, leaving only a Jack-sized clear area. He slid off the table. "I'm sorry, Ianto," he said. "I'll clean it up. And I'll go get more."

"Yes, you will. You'd best hurry. The morning conference is in five minutes."

Jack approached him. Ianto was watching him with narrowed eyes, but didn't back away. Jack risked a quick kiss, and pushed past him. As he went down the stairs to the main floor, Jack said, "I'm sorry I was such a glutton. I was just very, very hungry." At the cog door he paused and looked up at Ianto. "After all, I'm eating for two."

There was silence and then a strained whisper. "What?"

Jack grinned as the door rolled shut.


	5. The Hot Tears of Wrath

**The Hot Tears of Wrath**

The sickening crunch of a nose breaking under his fist made Rhys' blood pump faster. He brought his fist under the man's chin for an uppercut and felt satisfaction in the way the person's head snapped back. Even the scent of blood from the broken nose gratified him. It made the voice less loud. Gwen's voice:

_"I've been sleeping… I've been having sex with someone else."_

Rhys jabbed forward with his knee and collided with soft flesh.

_"…sex with someone else. From work."_

Rhys threw three quick punches two to the stomach and one to the kidney. "Torchwood!" he snarled. "Always fucking Torchwood!"

_"From work. His name's Owen."_

"Damn you!" Rhys shouted. "I thought it was Harkness! Captain Bloody Harkness that you wanted!" Fury ripped through him as he kicked and punched more.

_"…Owen. I mean, he's a bit of a tosser…"_

"Then why!? WHY!" A well-placed kick sent his victim to the ground and Rhys followed. "Why did you do it?" he screamed.

_"Because I'm ashamed. And I'm angry."_

"Angry! You're angry! Well, so am I!" He peppered blows to the shoulders, neck, and head – hard blows that made meaty noises.

_"And I want ... I need you ... I need you to forgive me."_

"No! Not ever! Betrayals! Lies!" More blows, faster and harder. "That's what it's come down to, isn't it, Gwen? All that we have between us. Lies? More lies? More stuff to make me forget?"

_"And because I've drugged you… It's nothing. It's just an amnesia pill. Dash of sedative. You'll wake up tomorrow, and you'll forget everything."_

"You weren't even being honest then, were you, Gwen? You thought I'd forget, so what was the harm in drugging your clueless boyfriend and then telling him you'd been a slut? Was that what it was?" He opened his hand and slapped the face hard enough to snap the neck. "Poor old Rhys, he's so thick that the only way he'll know is if I tell him and then to make sure he stays ignorant I'll just muck with his brain a bit! He'll never notice if he's missing a few brain cells, will he?"

He put his hands around the throat and squeezed. Squeezed harder. Squeezed until he heard something break. "God, you selfish bitch!"

The body was limp, the lifeless face with its bluish tinge rolling in his hands. Rhys stared and rolled off onto the floor, drawing his knees up into the fetal position. At last, the hot tears of his wrath flowed, draining the excess emotion away. It hurt – it still hurt and probably would for a long time – but the terrible mind-numbing anger was gone.

He didn't know how long he lay there, before there was a stirring beside him. A loud gasp and a flailing of limbs told him that Jack had awakened again. Jack had warned him to stay still afterward, until Jack could remember where he was and the circumstances under which he had died.

Finally Jack said, "Better?"

Rhys sat up and looked around. Jack's overly-handsome face had returned to its correct configuration, all signs of bruising gone. His breathing was normal. "Some, yeah," he said, in answer to Jack's question.

Jack's white teeth flashed in one of his quick smiles. "You don't look like I hit you anywhere."

"You didn't." Rhys shook his head. "I don't know how you resisted, but you just took it."

"Practice. I've used that trick before to get out of some situations. In this case, the only real danger is that Ianto will make me sleep on the sofa when I get home."

"You're going to tell him about this? Dying?"

"I won't have to. He figures it out just by looking at me. I won't tell him anything you don't want him to know." Jack sighed mournfully. "Even if I do have to sleep on the sofa."

Rhys was unable to smile back yet, but some of his tension eased. "I can't believe you let me do this. I killed you."

With a shrug Jack said, "It's part of the initiation ceremony now."

"Don't… I… I killed you with my bare hands."

Jack's gaze pinned Rhys where he was. "I let you do it, Rhys. My choice. When a memory that powerful breaks through the Retcon overlay, there can be a bad reaction. Yours was very bad. I'm glad you called me and not Gwen."

He looked down. "I couldn't… not when… it was this."

"You did the right thing. You protected Gwen. You let me protect you. That's how it works here."

Rhys tried to absorb this. There were still questions in his mind that purging the rage had not answered. "Did you know about it?"

"Yeah. We all knew. Not before, but while it was going on – yeah, we knew."

"How long?"

"I don't think…"

"How long?"

"Three, maybe four weeks." Jack shook his head. "I don't know for sure when it started. I was… well… not very observant at the time. It was shortly after she joined us. And when it was over, it was over. Nothing lingered."

"Well, that's something, at any rate." The floor was hard and Rhys knew he would have to go soon, but he had to ask. "Do you know why?"

Jack took a deep breath. "No," he said. "None of us can really know the why of someone else. But, I do know enough to tell you this: it was never about hurting you. She didn't want you hurt. That's why she did what she did. And, before you ask, I didn't know about that. After Ianto reported the missing pills, we guessed she might have given them to you. But that's all it was. Just a guess. Until you called tonight."

He stood up and brushed himself off. Rhys stood as well. "What should I do now? Should I tell Gwen I remember?"

"That I can't answer. It's up to you." Jack slid his arms into his braces. "I'm not a model of success in the relationship department."

Jack led Rhys out of the workout room up to the main area of the Hub. He grabbed his coat and went out into the car park to the SUV. Rhys had to get his car from the pub where he'd left it when the memory hit him. He looked at the clock in surprise. Only an hour had passed, instead of a lifetime.

They drove in silence, staring out at the black night. When they arrived at the pub, Rhys still had no idea what he was going to do. He opened the door, but couldn't make himself get out. He was still sitting there when Jack spoke. "Look, I suck at giving advice about people which is why I don't do it. Just think about this. You're angry and you're hurt and you have every right to be. I've lived a long time and I've learned that hurt heals. Anger festers. Pick the best path for the way you want things to turn out."

Rhys held out his hand and Jack shook it. "Thanks," Rhys said. "I'll do that." He got out of the SUV, but he didn't shut the door. "So," he said, "buy you a pint?"

Those flashy white teeth didn't bother Rhys at all this time. "Sure. Sounds good."


	6. What I Want

**What I Want**

I've always been a greedy son-of-a-bitch.

I'm well aware of the psychological implications of that statement, thank you. Owen Harper did go to medical school. I became a surgeon instead of a shrink, but I remember the basics of the course. Doesn't change the fact that I've always wanted… a lot.

_"Do I need to get another carton?" Rhys asked._

"Nah. This is about all of it." I reached way back into the cupboard and found the last of the kitchen gadgets. I put it in the open box and pushed it across the counter. "There. All ready for your mate's jumble."

"This is a lot of stuff, Owen. Are you sure…?"

"I'm sure."

At first it was just money. I wanted more money than God. Seriously. When your one remaining parent kicks you out at sixteen because she can't afford to keep you, you get an appreciation for being well-off. I didn't want to be a barrister or a solicitor. I couldn't scream well enough to become a rock star. I knew a kid whose parents were doctors and he always had money. So I hunkered down and went to med school.

I won't lie to you – it wasn't easy. However, with my eye firmly on the gold to flow into my coffers, as it were, I was willing to put up with anything. Soon, even though money remained my primary objective, I became greedy for something else: admiration. "Oh, Doctor, you saved my life!" or "… my son's life" or "… my wife's life" or whoever they happened to be was damn near as sweet as getting a paycheck. I wanted more of that, too.

And then I found the one thing that seemed to be all I wanted and more. Katie. My beautiful Katie.

_"Hey, Owen, there are sealed boxes in that storage area," Rhys said. "Looks like they haven't been opened in years. You want to go through them first?" Good old conscientious Rhys, doing a double check. He's a lot like Ianto really._

"That's stuff I brought from London. Take it all. Some of it is probably still good. Especially Katie's dresses. They were always good quality."

"Ok, will do."

That part of my life didn't last long. Katie died. An alien killed her. I wanted revenge now, too. As well as money. And admiration. I told you I was greedy, didn't I? I must have been a little crazy because when Captain Jack Harkness offered me a job that promised all three, I took it.

I was making more money than I ever thought possible, I could do everything that a brilliant surgeon could do, and I was taking my revenge on every alien I shot or cut up, telling myself that it was for Katie. But, you know, even that wasn't enough.

My greed showed up in a new form. I crawled the pubs of Cardiff looking for women. I wanted physical release without involvement and found it in that game. I wanted more and more, and got myself into trouble more than once. I think Jack had to haul my ass out of jail at least twice. I tried to control it then, but my greed had taken on a life of its own.

_It was less than a week this time before I called Rhys again. "You might want to bring a couple of boys with you this time. The bedroom needs to go."_

He sounded more or less resigned. He'd stopped asking me if I was sure a couple of weeks ago. Thanks for that, at least.

"Tuesday?"

"Yeah."

All right, now that's greed for money, greed for admiration, greed for revenge, and greed for physical release. What was next? Oh, yeah. After that whole Cyber-mess, in which Ianto managed to get us nearly killed, Jack changed. He stopped flirting with his fancy-boy and began – I don't know exactly how to put it – maybe "courting" is the right word. It's old-fashioned, the way Jack is. Maybe "wooing" is better. Up until then all that had gone on between he Captain and the Tea-Boy was heavy eye contact as far as we knew. We all figured that was at an end, but it wasn't. And as I watched their long conversations take place in Jack's office, I knew I wanted something else. I wanted someone to talk to.

Greed makes you impatient and, most of the time, careless. I wanted someone and I took the first person I could think of. That was Gwen.

Gwen has magnetism. Oh, not like Jack (I'm pretty sure he can pull planets out of orbit by the sheer force of his personality), but alluring in its own way. I needed someone to talk to. So did she. It was a natural progression that way.

The sex was good. Gwen has a lot of… enthusiasm. I'm sure Rhys has been enjoying those benefits all along. But Gwen was also good at listening, at least to me. At the Hub she was her usual nosy, noisy self, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she would let me talk.

Money, admiration, revenge, physical release, someone to talk to – you'd think that would satisfy anyone, wouldn't you? Not greedy Dr. Harper. Still wasn't sufficient. When Diane came down out of the sky, I wanted her. Not since my bright star Katie had I wanted another person so much. She seemed to want me back, too, but it wasn't enough.

I wasn't enough.

After Diane disappeared into the Rift and Jack took off for parts unknown, I think I went a little crazy again. I started buying things to fill up this emptiness that was over-taking me. I wanted everything. I bought not one but two new cars, one SUV and one sports job that was sexier than any woman I'd ever seen. I began pulling at pubs again, since Gwen had gone back to the safety of her Rhys. I was still making money, still being brilliant, still getting my revenge, and still getting the release I wanted but the greed had kicked back into high gear. I couldn't figure out what I wanted, but I told myself if I bought enough things, saved enough people, cut up enough aliens, and shagged enough women I'd find it.

This time when Rhys came, I told him to take the big screen TV as a gift for helping me. "I can't do that, Owen."

"Yeah, you can. Take it. Watch rugby on it. Or football. Or whatever. Take it."

He looked at me and I knew what he was going to say. I held up my hand. "If you ask me if I'm sure, I'll shoot you where it would endanger your chances of founding a dynasty. Just take it. All of it."

After he left, I wandered around the flat. It was empty except for a pile of medical journals that I'd never got around to reading. I had plenty of time to do that now.

When I look back, I realize the futility of everything I desired. All that work and it wasn't ever really what I wanted. The petty greed for things and people has coalesced into one giant want.

I want to be alive again.


	7. Envy? No, Not Really

**Envy? No, Not Really**

Typical. It was raining. And dark. They were all huddled under umbrellas, awaiting the arrival of the "experts." They didn't have long. With a squeal of tires, the black SUV pulled into a space and disgorged five people. "Thank you, boys and girls. Torchwood is here now." And just like that, they were pushed politely but firmly back.

Police Constable Andrew Davidson, usually called "Andy" by his mates, was not envious by nature. He was a mild sort of man and certainly not one to waste precious energy on useless emotions, There were a few people he envied, in that mild sort of way he had, because they had skills or traits he wished he could possess, but never quite could.

However, there was one man in Cardiff that Andy most certainly did not envy at all: Captain Jack Harkness, the leader of Torchwood.

True, the man was attractive. Even though he was not exactly an admirer of male beauty, Andy could give him that. He was tall and well-built. His features were handsome. If he had the captain's looks and that charm, Andy would have no trouble pulling any girl he wanted from the local pub. Andy suspected that those baby-blue eyes and flashy white teeth tended to mesmerize the unwary, and even the wary.

All right, maybe Andy did wish he had those looks, but that was all.

But really, the man was too arrogant, too full of himself as he strode around the crime scene with that stupid blue RAF coat swirling around him as he moved. He gave his team crisp directions and they moved to their tasks without hesitation or questions. He began to look around on his own, poking into things as though only he knew what was really going on. The really irritating thing was that he usually did.

Way too cocky for someone like Andy, but deep down he would like to have had that kind of confidence in himself and his work.

Andy certainly didn't want the complications of Torchwood to deal with. Look at his team. All of them loopy in a way, even his former partner Gwen. They were a handful.

Gwen was kneeling in front of the hunk of metal that had almost certainly crushed the man's skull. She must have called Jack over, as they were both peering at it now. Andy had had a crush on Gwen when she had been on the force; he knew it would never go anywhere for she had Rhys. Andy thought that Gwen had a bit of a crush on the Captain now. That would be a problem for her. She must shout at him a lot. She was always shouting.

That doctor of theirs – Owen Harper was his name – was checking the body over, examining it with that clinical detachment of doctors who looked at corpses on a regular basis. Harper was something of a local nuisance to the constabulary. The captain had to regularly get him out of the tank where he's been tossed for D & D. No one arrested him anymore, knowing that Torchwood would spring him. They would toss him in, call, and wait for the captain to come. When he was on the job, he was as focused as the rest of the team. Maybe there were two of him?

That mouse of a woman, Dr. Sato, was scanning some of the bits that had broken off of the main chunk of metal. Like the others she had on gloves and a mask, but her face was almost completely covered. She was a tiny thing, and always had a piece of technology that Andy couldn't recognize in her hand. She bounced from scanning, to the technology in the SUV, and back to scanning. She barely noticed anything around her, except to compare readings with those of that Jones fellow.

That Jones fellow – he was a right puzzle. Whenever he showed up with the team, he was dressed in a tailored suit which looked like it had been made for him. No matter how filthy or disgusting the scene was, Jones somehow managed to stay cleaner than the others. His voice was always quiet and even when he asked questions of the police, and he was unfailingly polite in spite of some of the other men being surly. Unflappable, that's what he was. Gwen had once told him "Ianto knows everything." Maybe he did.

No, Andy didn't envy the captain being in charge of that group of misfits. It would drive any sane man spare. Still, it might be nice to have a group of people you trusted around you. Sometimes.

One thing for sure that the captain had that Andy didn't want was a boyfriend, or significant other, or whatever they were calling a person of the same sex you were sleeping with today. He'd stick to women, thank you very much. Not that there was anything wrong with it. Andy just wasn't wired that way.

Andy had seen Jones with the captain when he patrolled the Plass on foot. Whether they were walking or sitting or standing looking out at the bay, they were always close together – close enough to touch. He'd seen them talking and being silent. A few times he had seen them exchange kisses. It didn't seem to matter that the captain was Jones' boss; that kind of thing would have gotten the captain booted off the force for harassment. Maybe it wasn't harassment if both parties were equally involved. Andy wasn't an insensitive clod. He'd seen the looks that passed between them.

Andy didn't want a boyfriend, but sometimes he thought it might be nice if someone looked at him as though nothing else in the universe existed.

Looking at Captain Jack Harkness in the rain, watching his team work and Jones standing close to him to show him something on his PDA screen, Andy didn't envy him at all.

Well, maybe just a little.


End file.
